Nonstop
by Konoe3
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is an appraised detective, but this time, this case of murder, may be too much even for man of his capacity. Will he be able to solve it all alone? Maybe someone will help him...someone unexpected. And why does this ice-cream taste so bitter-sweet? Crime AU, USUK, rated for description of crimes, character death and lemon in later chapters
1. Chapter 1

Alright, so here's my new story. I have no idea how long it's going to be, probably quite a bit. I'm sorry for all gramatical mistakes, don't hesitate to point them out foir me. Also my first time writing a criminal story. If you have anything to say, or just want to make me happy, leave a comment :) Thanks and enjoy

* * *

''So what do we have here?'' asked the detective, passing under the yellow tape the policemen set up around the alley. At first sight, nothing much happened there. It was just a normal alley, not different from many others that were in New York. Some dirty trashcans , graffiti on the brick walls, and smell of god-knows-what lingering in the air. Yet, this particular alley caught interested of about five police officers and now even a crime detective.

''Man, circa 25, stabbed in back. We can't say much more till coroner arrives.'' Informed him one of the officers and detective put away his sunglasses. It wasn't even sunny, but he had really sensitive eyes and had to wear sunglasses almost all the time he went out of his apartment in Soho. Now he put them away and kneeled over to examine the cause of all the circus in that small uninteresting alley.

The corpse belonged to man, around 25, just like the officer stated. He had curly, brown hair and tanned skin, and if one didn't notice two round holes in his chest which edges stained the white shirt with dark red smears, he could have looked like he was taking a nap. His eyes were closed, as he was probably already reconciled with his death, whatever the reason he died might have been. But then again, that was detective's job to find that out.

''Any ID's?'' he asked, looking closer at the body. He stopped feeling sadness over the dead few years ago. You couldn't do different when working as a crime investigator. He turned his eyes at the officer, who shook his head.  
''He's missing any ID in his wallet.''

Well, that was certainly unexpected, detective thought.

''That doesn't seem like a robbery then. Did they took anything else?''

''No sir. We found his cellphone, and wallet with money and some club cards, but nothing from which we could identify him. The culprit obviously doesn't want us to know who he is…or was.''

Detective nodded. It was surely strange, but no big problem, they will find his identity anyway, it will just take a little more time. Then he got an idea. He stood up, walked back to his car and from back seat pulled out his bag, from which he fetched rubber gloves. He put them on and returned to the corpse, gently lifting the man's head off the floor.

The officers around watched him with confused faces, but before any of them could ask, the detective explained what he was doing.

''His suit isn't such a fancy brand, but not exactly the cheapest either. It looks worn out, so he probably wears it a lot, and assuming he cannot afford another one…'' he stopped as he tugged at collar of the suit and looked at it.''he would at least sign this one.'' He finished and smirked when he find name sewn on the inner part of the collar.

''If he's the owner of the suit, his name is .'' The officers immediately scribbled the name down in their notepads.

''We'll check that, sir.''

''Good. I…'' he was interrupted by buzzing of his pager, so he just gave it a quick look and straightened up, turning at his fellow policemen.

''Unfortunately, I must be going now. I'll come to central later. Good bye for now.''

And with that, he turned on the heel of his shiny leather shoe and walked away. When his car went over the corner, policemen let out a deep breath. One of them whistled quietly.

''That guy is a class, I must admit. Though he has this funny accent.''

''You've never worked with detective Kirkland before? He's been one of the best in New York ever since he came here from London. He's idol of every one each of us. If only he would be more friendly…''

* * *

Later that evening, detective Arthur Kirkland sat in his office on Manhattan, sipping from his cup of black tea as he looked through the report on his computer. Many more facts were added meanwhile he was busy with another, fortunately much easier murder in China town. The man's full name was Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, and he was first generation of Spanish immigrants born in the States. He had graduated from some common high school and was working as common office worker in some import company. Nothing out of ordinary with him. He paid his taxes and his bills on time, he had no criminal record, damn, that guy hadn't been ever seriously ill or injured. And yet his normal life ended so early in that dark alley with two well aimed stabs of, how coroner stated, boning knife. And it was Arthur's job to find out why. He skipped through the record some more. No family known, parents deceased…oh wait, he had adoptive younger brother. Had someone called him yet? He didn't know, and the body hadn't been officially identified. So he put his cup down on the table and reached over to phone and dialed number of that brother.

It rang. Once, twice, three times.

And then someone picked up.

''Hello?'' rather grumpy voice on the other end of the line asked.

''Good evening. This is Arthur Kirkland, detective of New York's crime investigatory office. Am I speaking to Lovino Vargas?''

It took a while for man to answer, but he eventually did.

''Yes, this is Lovino. How can I help you detective?'' he used the word 'detective' without any sort, any hint of respect others usually had.

''Could you please come to the police central on Manhattan as soon as possible? We need to ask you a few question regarding your brother.''

''My brother? What happened to Feliciano? Is he alright?'' now, he didn't sound really that concerned, it was more like he said what he was supposed to say. Arthur was startled for a brief moment though. Feliciano?

''No, I'm talking about your step brother, An-''

''Oh, you mean Antonio. What kind of trouble did that idiot got himself into?''

Detective frowned at the bold rudeness with which he had been interrupted, but decided to let it go, considering what he was about to tell to that man…or boy, judging from the fact the sounded like one. He took a quick sip of his tea before continuing, concentrating his glare on the photos included in the report.

''I'm sorry I don't think it should be explained over the phone. If you just came-''

''Listen, detective. I ain't coming anywhere until you give me a god dammned good reason to! Got it? Now tell me what happened to that Spanish asshole.''

That made Arthur furrow his bushy eyebrows. He knew very well what it was like to have a shitty brother, he had three, but it wasn't adequate reason to talk like this about them to anyone! That boy obviously didn't respect anyone!

''Please restrain of using such a foul language…'' , he said, earning a grumpy 'pfff' as answer, but he continued anyway.'' I understand this might bother you, but I still think you should come here and here me out, because this isn't any easy matter…''

''Easy what?!'' Lovino barked in the phone and Arthur realized that as the boy was getting angrier, his accent was coming out, but it wasn't clear Spanish accent, rather mixed with something, but he couldn't think of with what…

''Easy matter.'' He repeated.

''Right…I'm not coming! Leave me alone and tell that bastard to solve his own problems!''

Arthur realized the other is about to hung up and caught on his last chance.

''He can't do that because he's dead!''

After that amost yelled sentence, the line was quiet for a while, but so long while that detective almost thought that the other actually hang up, until he heard something like a deep breath from the phone.

''..what?''

This time, Lovino's voice was quiet and he spoke slowly, almost as if he was about to die or at least faint.

''Dead. We found him this morning in an alley at Brooklyn with two stabs in chest.''

''…I-I'll come right now..i-if that's fine…''

''Thank you. Ask for me when you'll get here.''

Lovino hang up. Arthur put the speaker down and sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. That didn't go as smoothly as he expected. And something was telling him this case won't be smooth at all.

And it wasn't. When Lovino came, Arthur took him to see the corpse. Lovino clearly identified him as his step brother, and although it was one of a prude, detective honestly felt sorry for him. He had seen many people morning over loss of someone dear, but seeing that prudish, auburn-haired Italian(he learned that when he heard him speak directly and realized that the accent was Italian) cry and sob still made his heart clench and he was getting feeling that whoever this Antonio really was, he shouldn't have died. But as he walked Lovino to the man's dark red FIAT, he became confused. And he remained confused even when broken Italian drove away, probably to cry himself to sleep.

He returned to his office even though the time was close to eleven p.m. He made himself another cup of tea and thought about the case. From what Lovino had said, he had seen Antonio for the last time the day before yesterday, on Tuesday, when he left for work, but that was because Lovino himself was visiting his real brother on the other end of the city, he stayed there for two nights and returned to his and Antonio's shared apartment just about two hours before Arthur called him. They still have two days in which they had no idea what happened. Arthur hoped that his upcoming visit of Antonio's office would help them, since the coroner stated the death sometime around Wednesday midnight. He looked at the man's photography from his office, where he was standing next to some pretty girl and smiling widely. From what Lovino said, Arthur judged that Antonio was carefree, happy and positive person that everyone liked. Then why did they kill him?

He was determined to find out.

* * *

''Ah, detective Kirkland. We were so sad after your call. Antonio wasn't the smartest worker, but he was a good guy. Friendly…'' the director of the department Antonio worked in led Arthur through the cubicles to particular one. They were getting sad looks from everyone around and that only supported Arthur's theory about how popular must that guy have been.

''Here…he worked.'' The director, fatty small man with bald head showed him Antonio's workplace and sighed again. ''Tell me, detective, will you find the one who did it to him?''

''I'm sure we will them in front of right judgment.'' He assured him as he looked through the cubicle. It was small place, but Antonio managed to make it seem nice. He had brought some flowers, one of which seemed to be miniature tomato plant, and put them on his table. His computer was covered in funny happy stickers, most of them being tomatoes and sunflowers with gold shiny edges. He had calendar with sceneries from Spain, and a bright red mug with inscription, saying he was the 'best gardener'. There were also several photo frames with pictures, most of them being Antonio and Lovino. Antonio and Lovino on the beach, Antonio and Lovino in amusement park (Arthur noticed Lovino's lack of amusement), Antonio and Lovino and three other people in front of small house. He looked closely at that one. One of the others looked really similar to Lovino, from which he concluded that it must have been Feliciano, his real brother. Other two were older and tanned, probably Antonio's parents. The last photography had Lovino, Antonio and some blonde girl on tomato plantation, their faces kissed by sun and their smiles big, even Lovino smiled. He turned to the director, showing him the photography.

''Who is this girl?''

The director shook his head.

''I don't know. He talked only about him…'' he pointed at Lovino. Arthur looked at the girl again. Could this be his girlfriend? He certainly didn't hear about her from Lovino. But why would Antonio keep only one photo of her, while having so many of his family? Maybe it was Lovino's girlfriend.

''So you're saying he was working on Wednesday?'' he asked while examining the rest of the cubicle.

''Yes. He worked all his shift on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.''

''Did anything unusual happen? Did he mention someone, for example?''

''I don't think so, and I wouldn't know anyway. Ask Gilbert Bieldschmidt, he should know.''

''Gilbert…could you repeat that?'' he asked, taking out his notepad, ready to write the name.

''Bieldschmidt. He works in department of Alcoholic beverages.''

''Department of Alcoholic beverages?'' Arthur raised his eyebrows, wondering whether was director making fun of him or not.

''Detective, we're one of the biggest importing companies in the whole States. We have many departments, like cosmetics, food, clothing, electronic devices, ..Antonio worked in food department. We had to put Alcoholic beverages away because of some laws about importing alcohol…''

''I see. And who is this Gilbert?''

''He and Antonio were really good friends. Even I heard of some of their many 'night adventures', so if anyone knows what Antonio was doing Wednesday evening, it's Gilbert.''

Arthur wanted to smile, but he knew it would be inappropriate. Night adventures? This Gilbert was the person he was looking for.

He took the photo with the blonde girl, thanked the director and when he was told the directions to Gilbert's department, he left Antonio's cubicle, one of many sad traces the man left behind.

''I'm sorry, Gilbert isn't here today.'' Informed him the receptionist of the department when he arrived and asked for him.

''He isn't?''

''No. You know, his best friend died, so he took a day off.'' The woman explained quietly and smiled sadly.''Poor Antonio, it's such a loss…''

''I know, madam. I'm detective Kirkland, in charge of investigation of mister Carriedo's case. I need to speak with Gilbert Bieldschmidt.'' He explained with low voice, showing her his badge.''So if you have any idea where he could be right now…''

The girl thought about it for a while, and then looked at Arthur sheepishly.

''He often talks about one bar in Brooklyn.''

That was what Arthur needed to hear.

''What bar?''

* * *

It wasn't that much surprise that the bar was only two streets from the place of crime. It's name was ''Three corsairs and warlock''. It had kind of stylish look, being all designed to pirate style with some spices of wizardry. And he hadn't even entered yet, but thought it looked kind of nice and he might go there for a few drinks someday. Although he was appraised detective, he had a weak point for drinking, but it wasn't like he was getting drunk on every day basis! Just..every week or so…

Just as he was about to go inside, he ran into some guy with a huge box, and they ended up sprawled across the street.

''Ouch…'' he said quietly and glared at that clumsy guy, who dropped the bag and now was trying to collect all those…were those boxes with ice-cream?

''Watch where you're going with that box!'' he snarled at him, which caused the boy turned at him.

He had really nice blue eyes, blonde hair, glasses, and altogether, he looked like a king of graduation prom. Yep, he was also incredibly young-looking. He could be considered a celebrity, …until he opened his mouth.

''Geez, sorry dude. I couldn't see you o'er the box, you are the one who should watch!'' he complained loudly and if Arthur thought Lovino spoke without respect, he had to rethink it to make a place for this guy. He stood up, trying to clean his suit of the dirt.

''You annoying brat, you should watch!''

''Told ya I'm sorry, didn't I?'' the boy whined, collecting all the boxes and stuffing them in the big paper one he dropped, and then he checked Arthur out. Yes, he literally checked him out with those blue eyes.

''You look like you need ice-cream.''

Well, Arthur certainly didn't see that coming. Ice-cream?

''Do I look like I need ice-cream?'' he asked coldly and glared at other from behind his sunglasses.

''I already said you do! So why don't you come over there to the candy store? We have the best ice-cream in whole Brooklyn!'' he said excitedly and pointed at some colorful candy store across the street. Arthur gave him another glare though.

''I don't have time for ice-cream.''

The boy shrugged.

''Well, we're open non-stop, so come when you DO have time.''

Arthur nodded, just to get away from the annoying boy. It's not like he was ever going to come. And with that stated in his mind, he entered the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh, another one. Please, be kiind.,..I had birthday party today and America in me would be proud of the amount of cake and junk food and litres of coke I had today. Oh god, I think I'm gonna...oh, nevermind that ^^;**

* * *

First thing he noticed about the bar was mourning. The original corsair design was hidden, set aside by black ribbons everywhere. It was suspicious at first, but then he realized that maybe Antonio knew people from the bar well, and that they missed him. Like everyone else did.

But with a stinging pain the chest Arthur thought than no one would miss him. He had three brothers, and yet he was sure those jerks wouldn't even shed a tear for him. His mother was uptight lady who had spent her whole life in London luxurious quarter and didn't even know what 'sadness' is. Not that he cared. Since he moved from England he barely heard from his family. He remembered receiving Christmas wishes every year, a few times he even got birthday wishes and once he received a notice about his eldest brother's wedding. He sighed. It seemed like his whole family died for him fifteen years ago, together with his father. God bless him.

Finally freeing himself from depressing thoughts about his lonely life, Arthur walked over to the bar. He laid his eyes on the barman, tall man with wavy blonde hair, who was dressed in blackish shirt with violet shines, and barman waistcoat. He had a beard, and although he looked sad, Arthur noticed he was pretty handsome. A womanizer, maybe.

''Hello….'' He greeted the man and sat on one of the bar stools. Barman looked at him with his blue eyes, which seemed similar to those of that ice-cream brat from earlier. Why did everyone have blue eyes while Arthur was left with emerald ones and bushy eyebrow.

''Bonjour…what can I offer to you?'' the barman asked and continued rubbing glass with a clean rag.

''Oh, give me apple juice please.'' Arthur answered and almost frowned at the French greeting. How he disliked French people. The barman didn't notice that face tick either or didn't care and poured him a big glass of apple juice, put ice cubes inside and slid it towards the detective.

Arthur grabbed it and took a sip, delightfully noting that it was cold. Nothing was worse than warm juice…except cold tea. He set the glass back on the bar and looked at the barman.

''Could you tell me…where would I find Gilbert Bieldschmitd? I heard he goes here…''

Barman's blue eyes flickered as he shook his head, wiping his wavy hair back and forth.

''Sorry, he's not here today.''

Arthur sighed. Where else could he find him? Of course, he could always get him called to his office, but he would prefer not to. He knew from his own experience that people always told him more when in their favorite places, or just ANYWHERE outside the station. But he had no idea where could that Bieldschmidt be and he didn't want to just waste his time in a bar.

''Were you here on Wednesday evening?'' he asked, turning his attention to barman. Said man just lazily looked at him and nodded with a slight smirk.

''I own it here, mon'ami. Meaning I'm here just about every day.''

''That's perfect.'' Arthur said, smiling a bit. ''Maybe you could tell me if this man…'' he showed him a picture of the victim, ''was here on Wednesday evening.''

Barman frowned when he saw the picture and suddenly he seemed much more sad, but still managed to compose himself. Something that Arthur had to admire.

''So you're working on Antonio's case, detective?'' he asked quietly, still cleaning the already shining glass. Arthur nodded, not really that much surprised that he knew Antonio Carriedo. It seemed like everyone knew him.

''What was your relationship with him, mister…'' he trailed off, waiting for man to finally introduce himself. The wavy blonde set the glass down and offered him a hand.

''Francis Bonnefoy…'' they shook hands and the barman, Francis, continued..''and Antonio was a very good friend of mine. He sometimes even helped me here.''

''I see. And did he help you on Wednesday too?''

Francis thought about it for a brief moment and nodded.

''Oui. He and Gilbert were closing the bar that evening.''

Arthur pulled out his notepad and wrote it down, and expectantly looked at Francis again.

''And what time does the bar close? On Wednesday, I mean…''

''2 a.m….I mean Thursday 2 a.m.''

Arthur nodded. But if they close at two, and Antonio was killed around midnight, that means the bar was still open. Now it seemed he really needed to talk to Gilbert Bieldschmidt. He sighed and looked at barman.

''Anything else you know? Anything could help. Was there someone who had fights with Antonio? Did he owe money to someone?''

Francis shook his head and disappointed the detective.

''Not that I know. He wasn't one to spread hatred or fight. I have no idea who could have done it to him, but detective..'' he directed his blue eyes directly to the emerald ones.'' I hope you will find him quickly.''

''I'll do all I can.'' Arthur nodded and put his notepad back in his bag, thinking about what he should do now. Finding Gilbert would be his priority.

''Do you know where I could find Gilbert Bieldschmitd?''

Francis thought about it, and for a moment Arthur had a feeling he shouldn't have asked, but then the barman scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to the detective.

''Try it here..'' he said and pointed at the inscription, which Arthur immediately recognized as an address. Arthur thanked him, and pulled out his wallet to pay for the juice, but the other just waved his hand.

''Leave it.''

* * *

On the address he got was a regular tall building with flats. About eight or nine floors he guessed as he looked at the bells, looking for a name Bieldschmidt. Then he found it and pressed the bell, waiting for an answer. But it didn't come, so he rang again. And no answer again. He thought about giving up, but then some old lady came, pulling out a key. She lived in that building too, apparently. Arthur acted quickly.

''Good morning, madam. I'm here to visit Gilbert Bieldschmidt, but he's not answering the bell, but I'm sure he's home. Maybe it's not working or something. If you could let me in…'' he tried it. Old lady was probably a pretty naïve one, because she smiled and let him enter the building. She pressed the button, waiting for elevator, but Arthur headed to the stairs.

''You're not going young man?'' she asked, surprised. Arthur thought she should be more careful when with a stranger, but on the inside just smiled and shook his head.

''No, I'll go by stairs. It's fine.'' And with that, he went up. But in reality it was because he had no idea on which floor Gilbert actually lived, so his plan was to visit every each of them and check the names on the doors. He was already gasping for air when he reached the sixth floor and FINALLY saw the name Bieldschmidt on the door. He let out relieved sigh, and waited for a while to calm his ragged breath down. Maybe he should exercise more. And then he knocked on the door. And within a few seconds it opened.

''Yes? Can I help you?'' asked young, tall, muscular blonde man who opened the door. Arthur just nervously chuckled at the mass in front of him and pulled out his badge.

''Detective Kirkland. I would like to speak with Gilbert Bieldschmidt, if possible…'' he said, but to his surprise, the man turned back.

''Gilbert! Some detective wants to talk to you!'' he said loudly, but didn't yell. He had a deep voice, and Arthur thought how plainly weird it must have been when the man yelled. There was no answer coming, and blonde sighed.

''I'm sorry, he's grumpy today. I'm Ludwig, his brother. You're here because of Antonio Carriedo I suppose?''

Arthur nodded.

''I'll come other time if it's too much bother…'' he offered quickly, although he didn't really want to come some other time, he wanted to get over with it. Luckily for him Ludwig shrug his shoulders.

''It doesn't matter. He will have to face it someday, be it today or tomorrow. Come on in.'' he stepped aside and let Arthur enter. After he put away his coat and shoes he led him into some kind of living room shared with kitchen.

''Can I offer you something?'' he asked, but Kirkland politely refused. Man smiled and look at one of the four doors on one side of the room.

''I'll go get Gilbert then…'' he walked into one of the doors, but closed them, so Arthur couldn't really see what was inside. But it was probably some ordinary bedroom. When left alone, he, being the detective he was, looked around. The room was ordinary, nothing much. But he didn't wait long until he heard the door open again and saw Ludwig coming back, followed by his brother.

Gilbert Bieldschmidt was not really that tall as his brother, but well built too. He had pale skin, red eyes, almost white hair. An albino. And he didn't look to be in the best mood as he sat down across the coffee table from the detective. Arthur tried to give him encouraging look, but to be honest, he sucked at being positive to other people.

''Hello. I'm detective Kirkland. I'm here to ask about a few things reagarding the case of Ant-''

'' I know why you're here.'' Gilbert interrupted him rather rudely and Arthur frowned, but continued nevertheless.

''I understand his loss is painful, but I need you to recall as much as you can from Wednesday evening. When did you see Antonio for the last time?''

Albino looked at him and then shrugged.

''Around eleven. We were closing the bar, but he left earlier.''

''Earlier? Did he tell you why?'' Arthur asked immediately, and added a note to his notepad. Gilbert nodded.

''Yeah, he said he was tired so I told him to go home. I closed the bar by myself.''

Arthur nodded as to encourage him to continue, to expand the thought, but nothing came. As he studied the albino, he could tell that the death affected him a lot. He looked around quickly and noticed that Ludwig disappeared somewhere so he turned his attention back to Gilbert.

''Was there something weird about him that night? Or lately? Did he have any enemies, or troubles?''

Gilbert shook his head, assuring him that Wednesday evening was absolutely ordinary. Arthur sighed, but then remembered something and pulled out a photography he took in Antonio's cubicle.

''Do you know this girl?''

Albino took the photo and examined it, his face brightening after a while.

''Yeah. I don't remember the name though.''

Well, at least he knew her.

''Who is she? His girlfriend?''

Gilbert laughed at the last question, leaving Arthur startled. What was so funny?

''No, nothing like that. It's some girl he met during his holiday in Spain last summer.''

Arthur wrote it down and waited for him to tell him more.

''I think she was from Holland or something. He and Lovino just met her there and spend some time with her, but then they returned to the States. They were sending each other emails though, I think.''

''And are you sure she wasn't his girlfriend?''

''Totally. You know…Antonio didn't really..swing that way, if you know what I mean.'' He explained and the detective suddenly understood that laugh. So Antonio was gay. He didn't know if it was important for the case, but it was good to know anyway.

''I see. And did he have a boyfriend?''

That left Gibert thinking for a while, before he raised his shoulders in question.

''I don't know. But he never mentioned anyone, so I don't think he had. Why does it even matter?''

Arthur frowned. Why was that man questioning his questions? He was the detective there.

''It's important to know as much as possible about the victim.'' He said coldly.

'' I told you all I know. Now leave.'' He said in voice that sucked all will to protest from detective, so he just packed his things, said goodbye and left.

The next day Arthur put together everything he knew. The last time Antonio was seen alive was eleven, when he left the bar. But he was killed an hour later and almost at the same place. What was he doing for an hour? And where? Arthur was lost. But he was determined to solve the case.

* * *

After all, he went to visit the crime scene. Maybe he missed something. Maybe…he walked pass the bar and suddenly remembered something.

''_Well, we're open non-stop, so…''_

He turned around and looked at the colorful candy shop across the street. The brat said they were non-stop, didn't he? Well, he could give it a shot.

''Hello!'' greeted him enthusiastic voice right the moment he opened the door and tiny bell rang, He looked around. It was small, cosy place with various pictures of fruit and chocolate and everything that could ice-cream be made of. There were also three little tables, each with two chairs. He walked over to the counter next to the glass freezer with ice-cream and stood face to face with that four-eyed brat from yesterday. He hoped he wouldn't recognize him.

''Oh, it's you dude! I knew you wouldn't resist ice-cream!''

Well, his hopes were shattered. Arthur rolled his eyes.

''I'm not here because of ice-cream.''

The boy was shocked, probably by a reality that someone came to the candy store and didn't want an ice-cream or any other candy. But before he could ask, Arthur explain.

''I want to ask you a few questions, if you have time.''

Boy looked around the empty shop and shrugged, smiling.

''Sure. It's not like I have anything to do right now.'' He walked past the counter and led Arthur to sit by one of the tables.

''Sooo…what do you need, dude?''

Arthur sighed again. The boy had no education whatsoever.

''It's not dude, rather mister Kirkland or Arthur, if you insist.''

The other grinned.

''I'm Alfred Jones.'' He introduced himself proudly and adjusted glasses that kept sliding off his nose.

''Well, Alfred. Your shop is opened non-stop, am I correct?''

''Totally. Great, isn't it? I mean, we're like only non-stop candy store in Brooklyn, if not whole city!'' he said smiling. Arthur just raised his eyebrow and couldn't swallow the question that was racing out of his mouth.

''Why would anyone need non-stop candy store?''

He didn't seem to be surprised by that question at all.

''And why not? I think everyone should get their ice-cream any time.''

Arthur decided to let it be and instead focused on his work there.

''So, you were opened on Wednesday around eleven, right?''

''Sure. Non-stop means non-stop.''

Great, that was what Arthur hoped for. Now he had a chance to fill in the missing pieces of Antonio's whereabouts.

''And by any chance…was this man here?'' he showed him Antonio's photo and waited. Alfred shrugged.

''I dunno. I wasn't here on Wednesday.''

''And who was?'' Arthur asked, scolding himself for not realizing there would be more people working here, and now he would have to find the one who was there, and it could be god-knows-who who lived god-knows-where and…

''My brother.''

Arthur blinked. That made things a lot easier.

''Ah, and could I talk to him? Didn't he mention anything?''

The boy shook his head.

''I don't remember, he's not talkative. But I could check if Antonio was here. It's illegal to let you know, but it's not like you're a cop…'' he laughed.

Arthur thought that the boy was either really naïve or utterly stupid, but he didn't complain as long as he would get to know what he needed. And he wasn't even surprised Alfred knew the victim.

''You could?'' he asked, wondering how the hell he could do that. Did candy-stores have guest books or something?

''Sure. He's the only one who likes tomato ice-cream, and we keep tracks of what we sell every day.''

Tomato ice-cream. Weird, but not that important for Arthur to actually care. He wasn't his victim's nutrition assistant. Or psychologist, in case of tomato ice-cream.

''So do it.''

''Only if you promise me you'll come here tomorrow for some ice-cream.'' He said, grinning. Arthur almost pulled out his badge, but he remembered that he didn't probably like cops, and stopped himself. It wouldn't hurt to stop there for a while tomorrow.

''Alright, I will.''

''Awesome. Wait here for a minute, would ya?'' he quickly got up and walked back to counter, pulling something from behind it. When he came back, Arthur noticed it was a big notebook. Alfred opened it and turned few pages back, searching through filled pages.

''Oh, here…Wednesday, eleven p.m., two tomato ice-creams.'' He looked up to Arthur, grinning. ''That means that Antonio was here with like…98% probability.''

Arthur smiled. So that was where Antonio was.

''Thank you.''

''No problem. Why are you interested anyway?''

Arthur looked at him curiously. The boy didn't seem to know that Antonio was dead. Or he tried to make it look like that.

''Oh, nothing important. Thank you again.'' He stood up and walked to the door.

''See ya tomorrow.'' Yelled Alfred after him just when he was closing the door.

Tomorrow, Arthur thought. He didn't know why, but the boy was just making him…oh, never mind that.


End file.
